Bad Daughter

[accuscripter]

She stood outside her house, her body trembling, but her mind numb. She had managed to calm herself after the nightmare that was last night, or so she thought. Now, as she placed her hand on the cold iron gate, hoping to feel grounded, it swung open with a rusty creak, the sound slicing through the eerie quiet like an omen.
the gate is not locked??? She thought confusedly.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she stepped inside, her feet moving almost with cold numbness.

The silence around her felt thick, suffocating. As she crossed the threshold of the gate, her eyes fell on the shattered remnants of plant pots spread across the ground. Pieces of ceramic lay scattered, mixed with shards of broken glass that was glistening under the dim light. Everything was in disarray, but it was the thin, dark streak snaking across the floor, a vein of blood, that froze her in place.

Her eyes locked onto the streak. Without thinking, without feeling anything, she began to follow it. Her legs moved, but her mind was blank. The blood trail led her toward the door that opened into the living room. Her breath hitched as she saw it wind up the stairs.

Each step she took was slow, deliberate. She was detached, almost floating, as though her body was on autopilot. First step, second step, third… Each footfall felt heavier than the last, like gravity itself was pulling her down, forcing her to confront something her mind wasn't ready for. The house seemed to darken around her, the walls closing in, suffocating her as she continued to climb up.

The cold air wrapped around her, causing chills to spread down her spine, and sweat broke out across her skin. She reached for the railing, her hand trembling as she grasped it. Her breath was shallow, ragged. Every stair seemed like an ascent into her own death, a revolving descent into something she didn't want to face.

Her stomach twisted, nausea rising in her throat. She gagged, covering her mouth, trying to keep herself together. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, but still, she kept climbing, her hand gripping the banister so tightly her knuckles turned white. Step after step, each one dragging her closer to the inevitable.

At the top of the stairs, the blood trail veered to the room directly in front of her. The door stood there, closed, as if it were keeping a terrible secret. She reached for the knob, but her hand refused to cooperate. It trembled, fingers weak, slipping over the metal as though she no longer had any strength left in her body.

"No, no, no… please… please," she whispered desperately, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. Her heart heaved with sobs, but she tried again. Her hand, slick with sweat, kept slipping off the knob.

"Please… please..." Her words were choked, a pathetic cry of helplessness. Her tears blurred her vision completely now, making it impossible to see clearly. For a moment, she collapsed against the door, crying, unable to breathe properly.

At last, with a final surge of desperation, the door creaked open.

Vivian didn't even notice. She was too consumed by the blood; by the streak that led her eyes downward, pulling her into the room like a magnet. She followed it with her blurred vision, her heart hammering against her ribs, her body trembling violently. The blood streak ended at something, a large, unmoving object slumped in the corner of the room.

Was it blood? Her mind began to reel. Was it something else? She blinked, trying to focus, but her vision swam in and out. Her breathing quickened as she stumbled forward, her feet barely supporting her weight. What was that? Her mind refused to comprehend what lay ahead of her. Was it a figure? A sack of something?

Her hand fumbled along the wall until she found the light switch. She flicked it on, and the room flooded with harsh, unforgiving light.

"MAAAAAA!!!" The scream tore from her throat as she collapsed to the floor, her body shaking uncontrollably.

She fell to all fours, gasping, sobbing so hard her heart ached. The figure before her; no longer an ambiguous shape but a brutal, horrifying truth; was her mother. Her mother lay on the floor, lifeless, her once-vibrant body now nothing more than a still, silent form drenched in blood. A deep, gaping stab wound marred her chest, the crimson stain spreading beneath her.

"No… no, no, no, no!" Vivian wailed, her voice raw, as if her soul were being ripped apart. She crawled forward, her trembling hands reaching for her mother's limp body. The coldness of her skin made Vivian recoil, but she forced herself to touch her, to hold her. Her fingers hovered over the wound, shaking, afraid to make contact but unable to pull away.

"Mama, please… please, no…" she sobbed, her voice breaking into a million pieces. She clutched her mother's hand, gripping it tightly, hoping, praying; that somehow this nightmare could be undone, that her touch could bring her back. But the body remained cold, unmoving. Vivian could feel the life that had slipped away, and it shattered her.

Her mother's face, pale and peaceful in death, stared up at the ceiling, eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted as though she had whispered something with her last breath.

Vivian crumbled against her, weeping uncontrollably, her heart breaking in her body. The pain was unbearable, too immense to hold inside. She screamed again, a long, anguished cry that echoed off the walls, filling the house with the sound of her despair.

The world spun around her, the weight of her grief crashing down, suffocating her. She felt like she was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness of her own sorrow. Nothing would ever be the same. Her mother was gone, ripped away from her in the most violent, horrific way.

she was hugging the dead tightly.

maybe the part to which she belonged to, wanted to go back to its original space, today more badly than ever… she could only utter

maaa… if I had died inside you it had been better….

she wailed and wailed hard…

 

[accuscripter]

that If you're enjoying my content, but not supporting me on Patreon, you're basically letting me eat ramen noodles for the rest of my life

 

[accuscripter]

Vivian clutched her mother's cold, lifeless body, her trembling hands desperately feeling for a pulse. Deep down, she knew there was nothing

Vivian clutched her mother's cold, lifeless body, her trembling hands desperately feeling for a pulse. Deep down, she knew there was nothing. No warmth, no breath, no heartbeat—but still, she checked. Over and over again, her fingers pressing against her mother's neck, trying to prove herself wrong, trying to deny the grim reality that stared back at her.

"Ma… aren't you cold?" Her voice cracked, trembling with disbelief. "Your hands are so cold…" she whispered, forcing a smile onto her tear-streaked face, as if that fragile smile could somehow undo what had already been done.

Her eyes darted around, frantically searching for the source of all the blood. The room blurred around her, but then she saw it, the knife. It was embedded deep in her mother's chest, the handle sticking out grotesquely like a marker of death, a kitchen knife. The blade was buried deep, the wound already beginning to clot, a dark stain spreading across her mother's clothing.

Vivian's breath hitched. She reached for the knife, hesitating as her shaking fingers hovered just above the murder weapon. She couldn't bring herself to touch it. Her hand trembled violently, and she pulled it back, recoiling as though the knife itself was a living thing, dripping with malice. But then, forcing herself, she reached out again, her mind screaming in protest. Her fingers barely grazed the handle before she broke down completely, collapsing into the pool of her mother's blood.

The cold, sticky sensation of the blood seeping into her clothes made her shudder, her sobs uncontrollable now. She was sobbing with bouts of breathlessness.

She bowed in prostration over her mother's blood… "Can you hear me?" she wailed, her voice breaking as she cried out into the deafening silence. "I don't know… I don't know what to do, God! … Help me!!!"

Her cries echoed through the house, loud and pained. These screams did not go unnoticed. Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, each step reverberating through the house like the drumbeats of doom. Vivian's heart raced as her father's presence loomed closer, his voice following; filled with venom and rage.

He stormed into the room, and his eyes; bloodshot and wild landed on her crumpled figure, drenched in blood, clutching her mother's body. Without hesitation, he spat curses at her, his voice slashing through the air like a whip.

"What the hell are you doing, you filthy little wretch?!"

Vivian didn't flinch. Her body tensed as he moved closer, but she held her mother tightly, shielding her as though she could somehow still protect her from the monster in front of her.

"Don't you dare come near me," Vivian hissed, her voice low but shaking with barely-contained fury. "You dirty, rotten animal!"

Her father's face twisted into something grotesque, his rage bubbling over. In one swift motion, he lunged at her, his hands grabbing a fistful of her hair. Vivian screamed as he yanked her backwards, dragging her away from her mother's body with brutal force. Her scalp burned as he pulled, her screams blending with the sound of her body scraping against the blood-stained floor.

"No! No! Let me go!" she cried, but he was deaf to her pleas.

He dragged her out of the room, down the stairs, her body bouncing against each step, every painful thud against her back and ribs sending shocks of agony through her. Vivian's back scraped raw, her clothes soaking up the blood from the stairs. Each hit made her body scream in protest, but still, he dragged her, unrelenting.

When they reached the living room, he threw her across the floor like a doll. She hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. Her body ached in every possible way, but she barely had time to register the pain before she heard the rattle of kitchen utensils. Her father had stormed into the kitchen, rummaging around with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

She knew what he was looking for.

Her eyes darted to the fruit basket on the dining table. With trembling hands, she reached into it and pulled out a knife, her heart racing in her chest.

Her father emerged from the kitchen, holding a heavy grinder cutter. The vicious gleam in his eyes made her heart pound. He pointed the cutter at her, his voice a low growl.

"Come here. You deserve to see what I did to your mother," he snarled. "I'm the animal, huh?! You said I'm the animal!"

Vivian's pulse raced, fear coursing through her veins. He lunged at her, but she reacted instinctively, shoving him away with every ounce of strength she had. He stumbled, losing his balance, and the grinder cutter fell from his hand, clattering onto the floor.

Vivian scrambled to her feet, her body screaming in pain as she ran towards the staircase. But her father was quick; too quick. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back with terrifying strength, lifting her off the ground and slamming her back into the center of the living room.

She hit the floor with a sickening thud, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could react, he was on top of her, straddling her chest, his fists raining down on her like sledgehammers.

Vivian tried to shield herself, curling into a ball as his fists pounded against her arms, her face, her ribs. Every blow felt like it would shatter her bones. Her vision blurred, and she tasted blood in her mouth. She couldn't move, she was trapped under his weight, helpless to stop the relentless assault.

And then, with a sickening calm, he reached for the grinder cutter that had fallen to the floor. With a twisted sneer, he slashed at her arms. Vivian let out a blood-curdling scream as the blade tore through her skin, the pain blinding, searing.

"Stop it… please… I'll call the police…" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

"The police?!" He laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. "That bitch said the same thing!"

His hands found her throat, his fingers digging into her skin, choking her. Her world began to fade to black as her vision swam. She gasped for air, but there was none. Her lungs burned, her head pounded. Her mind raced with memories of her life, her miserable, abusive life.

She blinked up at him, her father...a monster...squeezing the life out of her. She hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being.

"I hate those eyes," he snarled, his voice thick with loathing. With one hand, he reached for her face, his fingers digging into her eye socket.

Vivian screamed. It was the the rawest expression of pain and terror. In desperation, she reached under her, feeling for the knife she had grabbed from the fruit basket. Her fingers wrapped around the handle.

Without thinking, without hesitating, she plunged the knife into her father's chest as hard as she could.

He let out a monstrous howl of pain, his body jerking violently as the blade sank into him. A rush of hot blood gushed from the wound, splattering across Vivian's face. She gasped, her chest heaving, as her father's grip on her loosened.

He collapsed to the side, gasping, choking on his own blood. His eyes were wide with shock, his hands clawing at the knife still embedded in his chest. And then, with one final, gurgling breath, he went still.

Dead.

Vivian lay there, gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably. Blood.... his blood... covered her face, her hands, her clothes. And then, as the adrenaline drained from her body, everything went dark.

She collapsed into unconsciousness, the world fading into silence.



(I HATE THIS CHAPTER EVEN WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I WAS CRYING, DONT KNOW WHY ... I WAS SCARED OF MY OWN CYCLE OF THOUGHTS IN THIS CHAPTER) As always you can support my work by following me on patreon accuscripter and read ahead.